


Solidarity

by cecilantro



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 20:05:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14480205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilantro/pseuds/cecilantro
Summary: Caleb and Yasha spend a lot of time together in the downtime. Beau and Molly know better, but that won't stop them being jealous about it.





	Solidarity

**Author's Note:**

> this got. out of hand.
> 
> anyway caleb/yasha wingman shenanigans pls thnx bye

“Are- are you okay?”   
Caleb is trying to read, really, but Yasha is sitting at the edge and staring out over the water, Nott is below with Frumpkin properly disarming the traps, and Caleb’s position on the rocks gives him a perfect view of Yasha being more reclusive than usual.   
“Yasha?” he tries when she doesn’t reply, and she hums, jumps as though shocked, and turns.   
“Sorry, yes?”   
“I asked if you were okay? You have been… quiet.”   
“I’m always quiet.” She gives him her small, somewhat sad smile, and he marks the page he’s on as he slips down the rocks to her side.   
“You have been quieter than usual.” He corrects as he sits beside her, mimics her position and stares into the darkness that follows the disaster brigade.   
They sit, silent for a few minutes. When it becomes clear that Yasha is not replying, Caleb puts a hand to her knee and blinks himself away to check on Nott. Yasha jolts under him, still unused to the sudden contact, and he makes a note to apologise when he can give all of his attention to her.   
Nott is working on the third trap along, Frumpkin sits diligently by the wall and waits.   
“Frumpkin,” Nott says, or grunts, clinging to the wall, “Caleb, either, can you help me-”   
Caleb sends Frumpkin skittering, jumping up the wall and climbing Nott when he can reach her, butts his head to the ball bearings threatening to slip out of the wall and holds there whilst Nott switches out the tool she’s holding for one smaller and thinner, more like a crocheting hook.   
“Thanks.”   
Frumpkin leaps down from her shoulder and moves back to the wall   
Caleb feels Yasha’s hand settle lightly over his own physical one, and blinks out of Frumpkin’s eyes turning to her.   
“Are  _ you  _ okay?” Yasha’s eyes meet his and it’s a cold shock, somewhat uncomfortable, they both look away again.   
“I am good,  _ ja _ , why do you ask?”   
“You seem odd. I know you were doing your…” she blinks, waves a hand in front of her eyes, “Thing. With the cat. But in general, a little off.”   
“I think that I am calmer and more… relaxed, than I have been for a while.” Caleb admits, and lets himself lean toward Yasha a little. “It does a lot for me, being able to rely on the people around me.   
“I understand that.” Yasha replies, quiet more from exhaustion than personality.   
“Yasha.” Caleb nudges her, “ _ Are _ you okay?”   
Yasha sighs quietly.   
“It worries me that Beau has run off.” Her gaze is pulled after the boat, again, “After that battle, she looked so horrified when she was forced to attack me.”   
Caleb looks at her, she’s shaking her head, slowly,    
“I didn’t get a chance to talk to her before she left. To tell her that it’s okay. To tell her that I’m sorry.”   
“You did not manage to hit her.” Caleb points out, “Molly stopped you.”   
“And that took me down.” Yasha bounces back, “Which Beau most likely blames on herself.”   
“Beau is both stronger and more dense than she seems. Intelligent, yes, but I do not think that she would really take this on, personally. She knows that it was not your will, or her will, to attack one another. She most likely doesn’t even think that it is a problem. Just a moment.”   
His fingers twitch on her knee and he blinks away again to check on Nott, leaning up against a wall and huffing, but proud. Frumpkin mewls, loud, and she looks up.   
“Oh, Caleb,” and pulls a piece of wire from her pocket. Caleb blinks away just in time to hear the Message in his own head,   
“I disarmed the traps properly! They’re  _ fucked! _ You can reply to this message.”   
Caleb laughs, gently,   
“Good job. Come back up, we are looking out for the others.”   
“Nott?” Yasha asks, and Caleb nods.   
“She has completely fucked the traps up, they will not be re-activating any time soon.”   
“I’m proud of her.” Yasha smiles that sad, small smile again, a little. “It still worries me that Beau, usually, likes to stick around me, and she has run off like this.”   
“Mollymauk likes to stick around me,” Caleb shrugs, “And he has done the same.”   
“That doesn’t mean that Molly doesn’t care.” Yasha protests, quick to jump to the defence of his friend, “He enjoys the exploration, and doesn’t like to sit still-”   
“And Beau is very much the same.” Caleb’s smile is something between smug and serene, “It is not personal. She likes the adventure.”   
Yasha’s laugh sounds like a stuttering sigh.   
“You’re right. Thank you, Caleb.”   
“No problem.” Caleb pats her knee and stands up, returns to his place on the rocks and opens the book back up, “You know that you can talk to me, if you feel this way again?”   
“I know. And you… me.” Yasha replies, all eloquence in the world.   
“Thank you.” Caleb replies, awkward but grateful, as Nott appears at the hole in the wall once more.   
“I  _ fucked them up _ !” She crows proudly, and both Caleb and Yasha laugh as they congratulate her.

 

Caleb and Yasha spend a lot of their downtime together. Jester pokes fun at them and makes jokes and implications that Caleb backhands away with the most deadpan of voices. Beau tries very hard to ignore them when they walk past, silent but side-by-side, one or the other will wave as they leave.   
Molly knows Yasha well. He should understand what she’s doing, here, but he lets his emotions get the best of him and ends up drunk, curled in Fjord’s lap and leaking with jealousy and sadness as Fjord pats his hair and struggles with the words to reassure him.

 

“Do you think that Mollymauk would enjoy this tea?” Caleb waves a hand at a box, Yasha comes over to read the tiny, spider-scrawl handwriting of the label, and wrinkles her nose,   
“He isn’t a big fan of liquorice root.” She tells him helpfully, “Or sencha teas. But he enjoys matcha teas, lavender, and anything with ginseng.”   
“Very basic things.” Caleb nods and moves to the next box, Yasha gives her odd sigh of a laugh,   
“I really don’t know what ginseng  _ is _ , just that he rambles about it when he’s nervous. There are a lot of things you can glean from Molly’s nervous rambles.”   
“Including the things that he likes?” Caleb asks as he picks up another label and pulls it in, closing the world off so he can read. Yasha watches and waits for him to set the label down before answering,   
“Yes, actually, the things that Molly enjoys are the things that he pays attention to, so those are the things he spits out information about.” She shrugs, and Caleb hums.   
“Good to know. What do you think of this one?”   
She comes over to read the label, holding a pink stained box on one hand, and nods appovingly.   
“That’s perfect.”   
“I thought so.”   
She sees the price.   
“That’s  _ expensive _ . You don’t have any money.”   
Caleb gives her a weak smile,   
“I have yet to pay off my debts to Nott, but I do have a handful of coin from… shenanigans.”   
Midnight escapades, saved only by the fragment of possibility in his chest guiding him down the correct alleyway.   
“I won’t ask questions. Consider if this is worth it, Caleb.”   
Caleb takes a breath and lets it fill him with the image of Molly’s face when he’s really, genuinely happy, rather than his constant forced grin. That smile, the gentle one that he rarely cracks out.   
“It is more than worth it.” He tells her decisively, and makes his way to the counter. She smiles as she watches him go, because it’s about time that someone appreciated Molly in the way that Caleb does.

 

They arrive back to the tavern together, and their friends are sitting at the table they’ve claimed as their own, drinking. Dusk is falling outside, the light in the tavern comes mostly from the lamps, now, and there are more patrons than usual with the lead-up to the festival.   
“We’re back.” Caleb slips into the seat next to Nott, and turns out one pocket of buttons onto the table for her, she beams bright.   
“Thank you.” she knocks her head quickly to his arm and begins to count the buttons, one-by-one.   
“Molly.” Yasha puts a hand to his shoulder, “Can I borrow you?”   
“Hm?” Molly looks up from his drink, somewhat distant, “Of course, of course. Let’s go.” He stands and swallows down the rest of his drink, follows Yasha upstairs, and doesn’t miss the pointed look she gives Caleb as they leave.   
Caleb waits for a minute or two before leaning toward Beau.   
“I have an issue.” He tells her, low, “And I- I was wondering if you could help me with it?”   
Beau eyes him, there’s a glint to her smirk,   
“Look, Caleb, you clean up nice an’ all but you ain’t really my type.”   
Caleb just blinks at her, completely deadpan, and waits for her real response. She sighs,   
“Alright, fine, what?”   
“It is a private matter. Could we talk upstairs?”   
Beau drags herself from her seat, groaning the whole time, and Jester traces her with her eyes.   
“If I’m not back in, like, five minutes, send Fjord.”   
“Fjord?” Nott and Jester ask in tandem.   
“Me?” Fjord echoes behind them.   
“Yeah, Fjord! He’s the emotional… y’know… I was tryin’ to make a point that Caleb is gonna cry on me, but… y’know what, fuck you, c’mon, Caleb.” She huffs over her own words and storms off, leaving Caleb to stride a little faster to keep up with her.

She throws open the door to her room and finds Yasha and Molly sitting on the bed nearest it.   
“Oh. Sorry, forgot you were up here.”   
Beau goes to close the door, and Caleb steps in to lean against it.   
“It’s fine.” Yasha shakes her head from the bed, and shoves Molly, he stumbles upright and out. “Why don’t you wait with me? Caleb and Molly have something to sort out.”   
Yasha’s smile is not her small, sad one, but strained and somewhat mischievous, Molly looks at her in confusion over his shoulder but brushes past Beau, leans in to her ear.   
“Good luck.”   
“Thanks.” Beau answers grimly and steps in, Caleb moves into the hallway, and the door closes behind him.   
He turns to his own door, and Molly trails him.   
“Did you plan this?”   
“Perhaps.” Caleb unlocks his door and holds it open for Molly, who squints, but heads in anyway. When Caleb comes in and lights the lantern in the room, he finds Molly already on his bed, cross-legged and eyes closed, he leans up against the wall.   
“Are you feeling okay, Mollymauk?” Caleb moves to his own bed and waits at the edge, the nervous tell, he runs the pad of his thumb over those of his fingers.   
“Are we ever okay?” Molly answers, and laughs, a bark that’s somewhere between forced and manic. Caleb sits up beside him, shuffles until his back, too, is up against the wall and his knee is laid on Molly’s leg.   
“You have been distant, lately.” Caleb comments, tries to sound offhand, doesn’t quite make it.   
“You  _ have _ been spending most of your time with Yasha.” Molly points out, the twang of offence to his tone, not hidden enough.   
“Ah, yes. About that.” Caleb shifts to pull the tea box from his pocket and finds Molly’s hand on his arm.   
“I didn’t expect Yasha to get involved with anyone in the Nein, at least not this quickly. She’s responsible and doesn’t like to rush into things-”   
“Mollymauk.” Caleb meets his eyes, it’s uncomfortable but he forces it, “Please tell me you do not believe the things that you are saying?”   
Molly freezes, very very still.   
“You and Yasha-”   
“Are both.” Caleb pulls one hand up to swat at Molly’s shoulder, “Gay.”   
Molly sinks back, and begins to laugh, somewhere between mania and relief, he buries his face in his hands.   
“I knew! I knew Yasha- I didn’t know that you- you, but Yasha. I can’t believe I let my own  _ jealousy _ blind me to that.”   
“Jealousy?” Caleb questions as he pulls the box from his pocket at last, and Molly nods into his own palms, Caleb can see a grin between his wrists,   
“Jealous of what?”   
Molly pulls himself from his hands at lightning speed, tilts his head in confusion to look at Caleb.   
“Of  _ what _ ?”   
“That is what I asked.” Caleb deadpans, an eyeroll, both hands on the box.   
Molly’s eyes flicker to it.   
“You don’t know?”   
“Know  _ what _ Mollymauk? Please don’t fuck with me.”   
Molly laughs again and shakes his head,   
“It’s. Irrelevant. What’s that?” he tilts his head at the box and Caleb’s heart rate throbs higher.   
“This is what Yasha and I were out buying today. This is yours.”   
He hands Molly the box of tea and watches as he opens it, already giving a beautiful gasp of joy and surprise. He takes the label and reads it, gives Caleb a peep of shock, and closes everything up carefully to set it aside.   
“Is it- a good choice?”   
Molly puts the box on the floor and turns to Caleb, arms out,    
“Would you be opposed to a hug?”   
Caleb is already scrambling in to him, there’s arms around his shoulders and the solidity of Molly’s waist under his own, he squishes and squeezes and feels Molly’s breath as he laughs gently just under his ear and presses his face to Caleb’s neck.   
Where’s Caleb’s pulse? If it was in a race, it would be first place by miles.   
“A perfect choice.” Caleb hears,  _ feels _ Molly mumble against his neck, and lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.   
“Yasha helped me choose for you.” he admits to Molly’s shoulder, “She is an excellent advisor.”   
Molly’s arms shift but stay tight, he pulls back just enough to study Caleb’s face.   
“But really,” he frowns a little, “You don’t know?”   
“Are you going to tell me what I don’t know, or are you going to tease me all night?”   
“I wouldn’t be opposed to either.” Molly’s eyebrows raise, and Caleb colours a little.   
“Do not tease that way with your arms around my neck, Mollymauk.”   
“Ah, so it would be better for me to tease like this?”   
Molly kisses him. It’s gentle and light and there’s no control to it, Caleb could draw back if he wanted to. He the  _ opposite _ of wants to, he feels his arms tighten around Molly involuntarily and the kiss becomes a little harder, one of Molly’s hands is at his jaw and pressing very lightly.   
Molly draws away and frowns.   
“Sorry, I should have asked first.”   
“Probably, but I am grateful that you didn’t, because I don’t know if I would have been able to answer.”   
Caleb finishes his sentence by kissing Molly, his initiation this time, because words are difficult but actions are not. It’s easier to tell someone that you love them with a kiss than with words, especially when, like Mollymauk, they are so beautiful that they steal the breath from your lungs.   
Molly sighs when Caleb pulls back, there’s the genuine, serene smile that Caleb had envisioned in the tea shop.   
“I love it when I’m wrong.” He says softly, and Caleb gives a very Yasha-esque breath of laughter.

 

Beau seats herself beside Yasha on the bed in their room when the door closes.   
“Hey.”   
“Hi.”   
There’s a short silence, Beau fiddles with her belt, then gestures to the door,   
“So, uh. What the fuck was that?”   
Yasha gives her odd laugh,   
“If we hadn’t forced them into a room together, Caleb would never have given him his tea, and they never would have done anything.”   
“Done anything?” Beau smirks and raises an eyebrow, “You make it sound like they’re gonna fuck.”   
Yasha shrugs, “Might do. Molly’s not above it, I think Caleb might be, though.”   
Beau’s momentarily stunned,   
“Wait, wait, wait. All this time you’ve been spendin’ with Caleb is to hook him up with  _ Molly _ ?”   
Yasha blinks at her, bemused,   
“What else would it be?”   
“We all thought you were datin’ or somethin’!” Beau throws her hands up, “Jester’s been  _ super _ graphic with her stories about it.”   
Yasha laughs again and shakes her head,   
“No! He’s… not my type and really, I can’t commit to any kind of, of, relationship, when I have so much of my own stuff to do.”   
“Yasha stuff.” Beau falls away again, quiet, and Yasha puts a hand on her leg tentatively.   
“Beau.” Her tone is serious, nervous, “I- we should talk about the research facility.”   
“What about it?” Beau tries to meet her eyes, can’t, she puts a hand over Yasha’s instead.   
“I don’t know if you feel, guilty, but I do. For trying to attack you.”   
Beau does manage to meet her eyes then, shocked and frowning,    
“Why do  _ you _ feel guilty? It wasn’t you that did it, it was just… y’know, your body. You didn’t want to.”   
Yasha smiles that small, sad smile.   
“Because I worry about you, and I care for your opinion of me.” Yasha shrugs, it’s not nearly as casual as she wishes, “I want you to like me, Beau.”   
“I do like you!” Beau blurts, and her fingers close around Yasha’s on her leg, “Don’t  _ ever _ think I don’t. It’s  _ your  _ decisions I give a fuck about, and you chose to come back to us, even though you didn’t need to. That’s your decision, tryna cut me in half was that shrunken fuck’s decision.”   
Yasha blinks at her, shocked, and is just as surprised to find herself fighting the burn of tears.   
Beau breathes hard, evens it out the way she’s been taught and closes her eyes.   
“I don’t make a secret of how I think of you.” The truth is open and admitting it hurts, “An’ I never will, don’t doubt me. I  _ will _ punch you.”   
“You’re real good at punching things.” Yasha smiles, it’s what she thinks Molly would say, and it seems to work because Beau laughs.   
Yasha puts her free hand to Beau’s chin and lifts, Beau looks at her and her hesitation and puts a hand on Yasha’s wrist.   
“If you’re not sure, don’t do it.” She says, firm, and Yasha averts her gaze.   
“I like you.” She tells her, without looking at her, “And I would… like, to try to start… something, but as I said before, it’s not fair to you to commit to something when there’s no guarantee I will be here tomorrow.”   
Beau tries to smirk, it ends up more like a lopsided smile.   
“You’ll always come back, yeah?”   
“The only reason I wouldn’t would be that I’d died.” Yasha says seriously, and Beau drops her fingers from Yasha’s wrist.   
“Loosen your sense of commitment, Yasha, it’s not like I’m gettin’ any anyway. I’m up for somethin’ if you are.”   
Yasha hums and relents, she leans over and kisses Beau gently, quickly, it doesn’t last nearly long enough.   
Beau takes a strong breath as Yasha pulls back.   
“A commitment can be a kiss every now and then, y’know? I wouldn’t argue with that.”   
Yasha gives her sigh of a laugh and nods,   
“Nor would I. I suppose that it may be worth a shot, then.”   
“Good. Now kiss me again, I’ve been fuckin’ waitin’ long enough.”   
Yasha obliges.


End file.
